• Achilles
• Balto
• Carhart
• Diamondback
• Evil
• FEAR
• Glycerin
• Hellbender
• Ion
• Jew Destroyer
• Krampus
• Lucifer
• McFly
• Normandy
• Octavius
• Perseus
• Quagmire
• Reaper
• Sasquatch
• Totem
• Utah? (because of the Mormons?)
• Voldemort
• Wild Thing
• X-wing?
• Yoko
• Zed

Yeah. That’s all. Just an idea.

We were moved to an off site location, probably three or four blocks away from the actual plant. It was a goddamn nightmare. No parking paces, no air conditioning, and this was mid summer when it was hotter than fuck. We were all sweating like a fat chicks under-tit.

We were actually in this old church, or cathedral. I don’t fuckin care which is which. What makes a church a cathedral? Does god pay more attention to you if you put more effort into a building? And if that’s the case, what if you live in a small town and the only church is an old factory that they slapped a cross on to.

Does god just say:

“Eh. fuck you guys. These mother-fuckers over HERE actually put forth an effort. They have more than a picture of me stapled to the wall. They hired a goddamn MURALIST. Seriously. The thing covers an entire wall. It’s magnificent. Not some piece of shit Wal-Mart painting. Asshole.”

Come to think of it, that would be a pretty sweet reaction from an almighty god.

That’s my new vision of the dude.

And he speaks with the voice of Chris Tucker.

So back on subject. We had this entire second floor of this old, shitty church to work in for about 7 weeks.

In that time, we basically got nothing accomplished. DAL pans was basically on the verge of extinction at this point (thanks, again, to fat-ass and they couldn’t really afford a shitload of temporary computers. So we got one.

For twelve people in the office.

Doing twelve completely different jobs.

Luckily, just under half the staff quit during this time. I stayed, Dave stayed, Jitzu HAD to stay, Karen was miraculously still there, Camel-toe stayed, John stayed and some guy named ‘burt’ stayed. He was a twat and I didn’t expect him to stay long anyway.

Speaking of, You know how i tried to frame Fat-beard

This was basically right when ‘Bert’ started working there. They hired him the exact day my experiment started. So he was blamed for almost everything right away until it came to the end and when i threatened Camel-toe.

She still doesn’t trust him though even though everyone thinks that Shamu did it.

Racist bitch.

Bert’s arab. That should explain the racist part.

Keep in mind that this was before the 9/11 attacks, so people still kind of halfway trusted people of terroristic decent.

Plus side of this new location?

The kitchen was fan-fucking-tastic.

It was like, a quarter of the entire basement. No more bumpin dicks (unless you wanted to) and no more awkward anything else’s.

there was about five different stoves, seven microwaves and a blender.

We could make smoothies if we wanted.

This was all fun in games until one fateful day that severely pissed me off. I had a lovely evening with an unwilling lady named *Darla. We had a great evening. She waited, tied up in my bed, for me to get back as i cooked us a lovely meal of Mashed Potatoes, string beans, Pork Chops and corn on the cob. It was delectable.

*not the same Darla that ended up killing himself.

So after she got away and left later that night, I packed my lunch for the next day. Again, of pork chops, potatoes and corn. I was really looking forward to it.

Flash forward to the next day when I get to work. Again, waste of my time. All i did was play solitaire.

And don’t start with that “OOOH THOSE OLD COMPUTERS DIDN’T HAVE SOLITAIRE!! thing. I played it the old fashioned way. A deck of cards and a very keen ability to not get caught from Jitzu. It took some work to figure it out.

anyway. Flash forward to lunch, I had my mmm mmm good lunch down in fridge number three awaiting my arrival so it could be devoured in the most scrumptious way.

So la de da, I head down there to eat, looking forward to it like a hooker looks forward to getting a jew to pick her up. I get to the kitchen. I see the fridge, my heart starts pounding. The blood pumping through my veins is becoming pork gravy and it feels yummy.

Open the fridge. Only two things in there. A bottle of milk, and a container.

Of fucking SOUP.

My fucking meal was goddamn gone. Some fucking asshole fucking ate it. I was furious.

Though, I had a goal the entire rest of the day: To find that thief and fucking destroy him.  It felt like a murder mystery. And the hunt was on.

I had to find a place to start, however. What would be my first clue. Rewind to Scooby Doo re-runs. what did they always do?

Go to scary location.

Check. This church is actually quite freaky. I’m pretty sure i saw a ghost walk by several times, then again it might have been that pasty white bitch before she quit as i haven’t seen the ghost since then.

talk to someone.

Okay. talk to someone. Who the fuck was near me.

I had literally just seen her. And if memory serves, she had a very pork-choppie smell…

I dashed off back where i had come, with the exact opposite emotion as i had coming there. Tore past John, on his way to the kitchen, ripped past Camel-Toe on her way to hopefully dig that goddamn thing out and raced as fast as i could until i met her:

Karen.

Okay. So i realized at that point that it might not be a great idea to accuse her of eating my pork, as that would probably result in my penis getting bitten off, and i really didn’t want that to happen.

Hey Karen,

What.

Umm…D

What?

Did you happen to see anyone eating food that appeared to be someone elses while you were down in the kitchen?

What the hell are you talking about?

I had pork in the

fuck you.

and she walked away.

I probably could have handled that a bit better. Though, i guess that means she wasn’t my culprit…Who else.

I had seen John, but i think that was when i had left chasing after Karen…But he IS black. And i have always told myself to never trust the black man…and i had read somewhere that the main villains always return to the scene of the crime…

He totally did it.

I would stake my soul on this.

I ran back down to the kitchen expecting to find John eating fried chicken and watermelon, but much to my dismay, i only found him eating a tofu-burger. Which sort of blew my mind.

I had never seen a black person eat tofu. No one has. I’m pretty sure it was the first time in history.

And i mean BLACK history. Those bastards have been around forever.

Adam and eve were black.

It’s true. Look it up.

So he ate his tofu burger. Like a black man wouldn’t.

I ran up to him and said:

Hey. you ate my Pork Chop. WHY?!?!?

Are you serious?

Yes.

Dude. I’m eating right now.

Ooooh, don’t try trick me with your black sorcery. You fuckers can eat an entire lion. I’ve seen the discovery channel.

I don’t even LIKE pork chops.

uhh huh. and next you’re gonna say you don’t like watermelon either. Huh.

I don’t.

Lies.

Man, fuck you.

No. Fuck you.

I’m gonna shank you if you don’t shut the fuck up.

You’re right. Fuck me. Have a good lunch.

And i walked away glancing back to see if he was gonna pull out his nine.

And by nine, i mean gun. Not his penis.

Because that’d probably be called a forty four.

As he’s black.

But then again, he didn’t do other things black people did. So maybe it WAS a nine.

I mean, I did accidentally bump it once. I didn’t try measure what caliber it was, but i could tell it certainly wasnt the five that i was used to dealing with…

So scooby doo had failed me at this point. I talked to people and nothing came up. The next step that the gang usually did was split up and go searching around the haunted house.

…

I foresaw no way of actually accomplishing this, so i tried to skip ahead to the elaborate trap, meant to catch one thing, but eventually getting fucked up and catching the wrong, yet right person.

Well, Three candles, a stack of chairs, a desk, two live mice, a toenail clipping i found, seven paper clips, a net, eighteen sheets of loose leif paper, a car starter, a picture of Kurt Cobain, an Exit sign, twelve jars of peanut butter and a car battery later, I had macgyvered the shit out of a trap.

I set it up right as one would enter the main floors stairwell to the office above it. It was a clever trap. I took all of the different items and just sort of piled it at the bottom of the stairs and sat there beside it. Then, when someone walked down…

I would throw shit at them.

First down was Dave.

Ohhh, he might seem like the typical day to day husband of two mother of six house-elf. But he was a fucking thief and i knew it would be him.

He turned the corner and i started pelting him with shit.

Candle. Candle. Paper clip. Paper clip. peanut butter. Car starter. Picture of Kurt Cobain.

It continued like that all the way until he was laying on the landing above me in the fetal position and i heaved the car battery up to drop on his dick.

Finally i stopped and he begged

What the fuck man?

I know what you did…

WHAT?

You ate my pork chop you dick.

…How the hell did you know that?

Holy shit. You really did?

My wife forgot to pack me a meal. So i found one that had the most and i took a bite of the potatoes and a small sliver of pork chop and put it back in the fridge.

Liar. There was none left.

There was. I put it behind the bottle of milk.

*flashback*

There wasn’t anything behind the milk.

Yes there as.

Nuh uhh.

I swear to god there was. Unless the black guy took it.

No. I checked him already. He was eating Tofu.

Then it mu–tofu, really?

Yeah. blew my mind too.

I swear it was back there though.

So we went back. Or rather, I went back and i dragged him by his arm behind me. Down three flights of stairs. across a very scratchy carpet. Across a pool of piranha.  and finally into the kitchen, where i threw him against the fridge and screamed

SHOW ME.

He looked back up at me, with a very pitiful look.

I must have screwed up. I accidentally put it back in this fridge.

He motioned to fridge number four. He opened it and low and behold, there was the goddamn tupperware container.

You live.

I said.

For today…

And I devoured my meal.

This might be the worst business ever.

But would you leave it? Fuck no. Far too of interesting possibilities. I could practically do ANYTHING here and keep my job. So. after the office party, I decided to test this theory. I mean, shit. I already killed a guy and kept my job. I wonder how far i could take this.

I found out that this job I actually applied for entails that I basically sit at a desk in a cubicle as far away from a window as possible. I have been told to not personalize my cubicle. I had been told that I can’t stand up and do my job. Leaving me strictly sitting in a slight rectangle with three gray, slightly fuzzy walls for eight hours a day and five days a week. Oh. I get a half hour for lunch in the mini-closet called a lunch room, but aside from that? Nothing. They even get pissed if you take a piss. How shitty is that? And its not that Jew Jitzu alone. It’s fucking EVERYONE. That fat bitch that sits across the aisle from me is the biggest culprit. Seriously. One day i had a goddamn leg cramp and had to stand up for, not kidding, ten seconds. I stood up, rubbed my leg for a second and sat down. This fat whore was SO GODDAMN fast onto the line to Jitzu that i had barely sat down and he was standing at my cubicle five seconds later and it was basically like Lumberg from Office Space.

I had to give him credit though. He had quite a lot of guts having lost his penis three and a half weeks prior, and for him to stand next to me and tell me to stay sitting it was tough. It was ALSO tough to not glance down at his crochal region…It was like BAM. Right in my face. But I couldn’t look.  It was like a car wreck.  You want to look, but you feel REALLY bad…

Anyway. Stupid fat bitch.I think her name is like, Betty or something. Fat girls name whatever it was.

So yeah. I have to sit in this cubicle and my given job is to take a stack of orders, handwritten in the store out front of this godforsaken factory, and type them into the most primitive computer known to man. Keep in mind this is 18 years ago when people thought kilobyte was a lot of space. My computer took up three quarters of my cubicle. I had to type these things out into this program. The black and green was mind-numbing.

Basically i told you that way overblown story to tell you that i had to do every one of my plans over lunch. I probably could have just said that straight up…

I tried the first ‘experiment’ the first Monday after the office party. I figured i would do a month or so of doing things on Monday and Thursday of each week, each getting progressively more intense.  My first one  was pretty lax. All i did was put a dog turd in the coffee pot. Pretty safe.

Funny part? Everybody thought that days coffee tasted delicious. No one figured it out. The janitor probably did when he cleaned up that night, but no one else.

First Thursday: I had to one up a turd in the coffee pot. My solution? I came in an hour early, turned on everybody’s computer and changed all of the sounds, like the start-up sound, the “Error” sound, and every sound i could possibly think of, to different types of moans from porn. 8am came and it sounded like a gang-bang. Everyone looked around fucking terrified. I sat in my cubicle and LAAAAUGHED!!! It was awesome. the rest of the day, no one could figure out what was wrong. Some people, like fat cunt, thought that turning her computer off and on would fix it. God damnit that one hurt me from laughter. every three minutes, “UUuuuuHHHHH!!!!!! YEAH YES YES UUUUUUUHHHHHH, NO NO NO NO NO NO NO YEEESSSS!!!!! AAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *Poit*”

That wasn’t fixed until we got new computers. Two weeks later (wait for it.) I consider that one my best, or at least most memorable, from the month.

The Next Monday: timers on the computer outlets. set to twenty minute intervals. the script went, for the entire day, *work*work*work*work*”FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK”*work*work*work*work*”FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK”

Goddamn hilarious.

Thursday: clever, not really more dangerous, but funnier as we got to go home that day because we couldnt work. Unhooked the mouse and keyboard from the back of the computer. Simple. Elegant. Fucking hilarious.

Monday: I tried a little more dangerous approach. Did you know that you can buy seventeen rats for fifty dollars? I found that out. And it was worth it. Even better was how i put peanut butter under everyone’s chair so the cute little rats would flock to everybody. It took them three days to find all of the rats, catch them and then exterminate the building. and they had to do the entire building. Office. Shop. and store front. I guess i lost them a good five thousand dollars in those three days.

Thursday, I figured that as i haven’t done any actual work for the whole week, that i might as well try for the whole 5 days.  To do that, i had to do something crazy as they would try to have us work through basically everything. What did i do? Spend one night without sleep, stay up all night setting up a covert rube goldberg system that starts with Jitzu opening his office door and ending with the fire alarm going off, thus setting off all of the sprinklers, dousing all of the computers, ruining fucking EVERYTHING. Millions of dollars worth of information was lost. And it cost the company seventeen thousand dollars to replace all of the computers. and they never found the system i used as it was all either burn-away setups or water soluble elements.

We didnt work the next week…

I figured I had to tread carefully the last week of my venture, so I chose my pranks carefully. I figured that Monday, i had to play it fairly safe, and Thursday I would go to the furthest extent…

Monday all I did was fuck with one person: Camel-toe Betty. Not because she’s a bitch or anything. But because someone has a well known grudge against her. All I did was send her an email from Fat Cunt’s email account, which was surprisingly easy to hack by the way.

Email Address: I_love_cats@DALPANS.com

Password: cats.

That’s right. the fat whore had a four letter password that was also in her email address. What a fucking moron.

The email consisted of a veiled death threat. I can remember it verbatum.

“Dear whore.

I see your camel toe every day.

I see you thinking you’re hot shit.

I see you glancing over and looking down in disgust at me every day.

Not for much longer.

No more details, but be careful driving home after work today.

There might be a few…surprises for you.

–You know…”

Oh. I also cut her brake lines for good measure.

Cops were called. Fattie was taken in, but released because of the lack of evidence and proof that it was her.

Thursday I skipped. For good reason.

Before I get to it, let’s recap. I had gotten away with a turd in the coffee pot, sex sounds on the computer, intense loss of information from computers, sent eveybody home unable to work, aka, loss of plenty of money, Rats and closing shop for three days, destroying thousands of dollars worth of equipment, and losing millions to the company, and the Camel-toe debacle. What could possibly be the coupe de grâce of this all?

Cows.

Dead Cows.

Everywhere.

Chopped up.

Smeared over everything.

On the new computers.

The walls.

The chairs.

The cubicles.

The floors.

Fucking. Everything. Carcasses hanging from the ceiling, dripping blood. Staining the carpet.

And why did i skip Thursday? So I can do this on Friday, right after we closed, right after the Janitors got done. The building empty. So that it could stew.

For 3 days.

And what do you do have to do with stew? Heat it up. So the thermostat went from the chilly-ness of sixty degrees to a blistering ninety two.

That office closed and relocated to an off-site location for about seven weeks. The workshop closed for three weeks. The storefront closed for three weeks. Half of the employees quit. Again, new office equipment, renovating the entire office as everything had to be gutted.

It was catastrophic to the company.  They lost SOOOO much money.

And, as my personally favored addendum: Fat Cunt was blamed. For. it. all. Because i covered my tracks. I always made sure my friends would cover for me. I had alibi’s.

She was a fat, lonely bitch. She had no proof of where she was. She had always spoken ill of the company and bitched while she was there. She hated Camel-Toe Betty. She was the perfect subject.

She was Sued. For 15 million dollars.

The company won.

She was sent to jail for destruction of property for several years.

THAT’S why you don’t fucking tattle. Fucking bitch.

Well? How about Aids.

I can’t, but you have to admit, it would be a good transition. Like, if Karen went to work at an AIDS prevention plant office and she had it from Mr Jitzu. It’d be a good story.

Obviously that can’t happen as she worked there for the entire time I did, but whatever.

Yeah. That’s right. She never lost her job due to that. Even better? Mr. Jitzu was fired about a year and a half later for covering up the sexual harrassment she filed against him, claiming he told her to go “Shave some sex off of the production line.”

Yeah. totally fucked up. Not only does the man get his dick bitten off, chewed up and spat in his own face, but he gets fired and they claim it was his fault.  He’s in jail now.This is why the world sucks.

But anyway. That little incident happened probably a week or two into my eventual lifetime of this bloodsucking company. And instead of getting nervous and quitting to find a better job, i decided, apparently, to rough through it and see if it got better. At least until a medieval blacksmith job opened up. That incident was the talk of the town for at least three weeks. Karen’s dick was more popular than Bieber Fever.

It reached its height at the company picnic three weeks later (apparently i picked a phenomenal time to join this company) when John, ‘member that guy that wasn’t really a friend, but we didn’t hate each other per-se? He, along with every other person in the entire office, was talking to their families about this story, and everyone kept looking over at her and her husband.

THAT dude had no idea what for. She never told him what she did, which baffles me, because there was a lot of blood spilled on her shirt. How do you explain that?

“oh, my boss made me slaughter a pig for the picnic in a couple weeks”

Psh. yeah. Logical.

anyway. He was getting super pissed, because he thought just the guys were looking over at her and checking her out. She DID tell him about the sexual harassment thing (not resolved until a year and a half later) so his mind was sparking to that. Not the dick biting.

Also. She isn’t even hot by any means. For him to think we were all ‘checking her out’ was insane. She is the female equivilant of Shane Macgowan. Not attractive whatsoever. Plus, the girls were looking too. but apparently he didn’t notice that. Sexist asshole.

Eventually, he got so angry that he, apparently choosing at random, went to John, who was all the way across the room, and started to make a scene. Not even a good scene. All he did was puff up and say something akin to “whaa yew leukin at mah waff, nigger?” (oh. Forgot to mention. John’s black.)

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yer stairin at mah waff, she tol me abaut the sexuel hArassment been goin on down hur.”

“Did she tell you about the other incident too?”

And faster than the winds gushing out of a fat mans ass, Karen was in between them, pulling her husband away.  She practically teleported over there. It was quite spectacular.

See? why did i even bother to tell you that? It’s not a good story. like. At all.

The flaw in a diary i guess. Also. Why am i talking TO YOU. Who the fuck is gonna read this? Am i gonna die, and all of a sudden, everyone’s gonna want to read my DIARY? Yeah. That seems plausible.

Back to the story. I meet John in the–Also. Why chapters? does a diary normally have chapters? isnt it normally a “April 2, 1955″ type of thing? I also seem to have a severe lack of

“Johnny saw sally kiss monicas boyfriend kevin as he and monique were at the drive in with kendra and ben, who were making out in the back seat as the Lion King was playing, but then diane and burtha came up to the window and decided to try to get Johnny to leave monique, and he explained how they both should mind their own business or else he would smack a bitch”

…Come to think of it, that’s quite fun to write. Fuck my story. Let’s hear about Johnny.

Okay. Maybe not. Fuck johnny. Fuck him up his bitch-smacking ass.

So, back at it. John. He’s not quite an asshole. I met him like, the day before the Karen thing went down. (and in one case, never came back up again. BOOM!)

I knew he was different because he was black. And black people are cool.  Like Morgan Freeman. I’d like to see a white man make the sex cycle of penguins seem interesting.

Imagine that for a minute. like…Florence Henderson doing that voice over? Whoa. Mrs. Brady telling me how penguins fuck.

See?

Black people are cool.

Anyway. John, the cool black man, was in the lunch room (lunch closet more like) and i happened to walk in there at the same time, which is basically like saying “Hey, lets awkwardly move around each other and bump packages as it’s so fucking cramped in here”

So we accidentally bumped packages. It was quite awkward.

But he played it cool. I had bumped packages with another dude there like, my first day there. He got so goddamn angry that i almost shit myself. And he was goddamn Canadian. If a Canadian can make me almost shit myself, what the FUCK would a cool, black man do. Needless to say I had avoided the room altogether since then, but i had to risk it again as it was my break and i had to store something in the fridge. I knew it would be scary.

“Whoa, big poppa”  he said, sucking his package away from me.

“I’m so sorry. It’s so cramped in here”

“I know, man. I’m always package-bumpin with people.”

“Heh” along with a slightly nervous look away from him.

“everyone here normally flips tit when it happens though. You’re seemingly cool about it though. You’re not gonna fit in here.”

“Well. to be honest. I dont want to get my ass reamed out again.”

“We’re not in prison. you’re safe”

“No. Not from you. From that Canadian motherfucker”

“Darla?”

“No. The guy.”

“Yeah. Darla.”

“No fucking way. really?!”

“Swear to god. He always tries to do this hardass approach when new people come in, and then someone tells them his name and no one takes him seriously after that.  He’s a pussy”

“Well. Good to know.”

“Good package-bumpin with you sir.”

“…s…same to you?”

and he pimped away. Cool fuckin black dude.

So Darla came in very shortly after…heh. heh. heh.

“Hey Darla!”

“FUCK.”

and he left.

I felt victorious, for some strange ass reason.

Sad part of the story? No one, before me, had ever called him “Darla” in the derogatory way, they always called  him “Sir” because, apparently, he has severe depression and even the slightest slam sends him spiraling into a fit of depression that lasts weeks.

Yeah. THAT’S why John is still just an acquaintance. Because that was a dick move kinda.

Darla killed himself shortly thereafter.

Yeah. Been working at the place for less than a week, and already killed one of the employees. Story of my life. Thankfully, though, i wasn’t mentioned, by name at least, in his suicide note.

Oh. Choice of suicide?

overdosing on weed.

Yeah.

Want to know how he ACTUALLY died?

He smoked a bunch of weed, then decided to make a pizza, put it in the oven, turned it on high, sat on the couch, turned on a movie, fell asleep, vomited and choked on his vomit.

Overdosing on weed. What a fucking tool. Wanna go out in a memorable way? Try  skiing behind a jet. Your depressing ass family will at least get a cool story out of it.

“How’d uncle Darla die?”

“Skiing behind Air Force One. caught some turbulence, fell off his skis, fell four thousand feet into a building that was having a “Get over your fear of flying” class.”

But what the fuck did you give them?

“How did Aunt Darla die?”

“Uncle Darla. and he choked on his vomit.”

“…”

“Yeah.”

Fuck you Darla. Fuck you more than Johonny. I should work on endings to chapters. Two for two where i mention that I am ending a chapter.

I should probably key you in on what the hell i’m talking about.

I had just gotten out of college back, oh…18 years ago?…yeah, 18. graduated in..Yeah. Fuck. wow. It’s been 18 years since college? fuck.

Sorry. I got distracted…

Okay. So I just got out of college and was looking for a job in my career field. No one was hiring. Apparently “Medieval Blacksmith” was a bad idea to major in. and the minor in alcoholism wasnt the best either. But fuck it. Hindsight is 20/20.

So having very slim amounts of jobs open with my actual career aside from Renaissance fairs, and let’s be honest. Who the fuck would want to work there. I call it “Virgins R Us.” Having run out of options, i decided to go get an office job for the timebeing until i could find an adequate job that i didnt completely fucking loathe. the company i chose was called “DAL Pans.”  They made pans, and i was in the office. For a company that made fucking PANS. dreadful. I had always imagined pans always existing, because, to be completely frank, I have NEVER had a pan ‘wear out.’ Have YOU? No you haven’t. Well. Until this Teflon shit started. But old fashioned hardcore MAN pans? Never. I’m pretty sure someone’s still using Genghis Khan’s pan.

When i got finished with my interview, I swore to myself what I said above; that i wouldn’t become a sellout or lifer or whatever term i used. The interview was bloody awful. I got there like, ten minutes late, the interviewer, thankfully, was an alcoholic (later committed) and was an hour late himself, so i felt ‘lucky’ if i could even use the word. The interview basically consisted of two questions:

“Do you REALLY want to work in an office that oversees PAN manufactering?”

“I dont know. Kinda?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah?”

“Okay. Come in on monday wearing the last smile you ever will wear as long as you’re with this company”

And I left. That is verbatum of that interview.

Needless to say, the job was…bad to say the least. Everyone there hated everyone else there. it felt like middle school all over again, except instead of the groups of people hating everyone, it was everyone hating everyone. There were no alliances. It felt like a dinner party between the Nazi’s, Jews, KKK, Black Panthers, Atheists and Whoopie Goldberg. Just one big hodgepodge of hatred.

I did manage to make what can hardly be described as a friend, but we were able to talk without ripping each others dicks off. Not that that happened often in the office. Just once really. and wow was that an fucked up day. Seriously. Karen got so pissed at the boss, Mr Jitzu (who, by the most AWESOME coincidence was a Jew) that she pulled his pants down and literally ripped his penis off. Can you say fucking OUCH? Ugh. My dick hurt for like, a year after that just walking into the building. THATS not even the fucked up part though. Karen, right after it?

*CHOMP*

Right through it. took a giant ass bite out of it, chewed it into a pulp and spat it at Mr Jitzu.

Just imagine this if you will.

Dont get me wrong. I find it a stroke of scheer brilliance as it guarantees he will never be able to sew it back on, but God fucking DAMNIT. That’s quite the price to pay.

Oh. Best part: Karen still got an amazing reference from there after she quit. Mr. Jitzu couldn’t bare to tell any potential employers of her the story, so he just said everything was fine to get them off the phone.

I KNOW! I guess if you ARE gonna go out, go out in a way that sounds impossible. Bite the bosses dick off and chew it and spit it in his face. Can you imagine THAT call?

“Hello, is this Mr. Jitzu from DAL Pans?”

“Yes, it is”

“I am calling about your ex-employee Karen Whothefuckremembers, what can you tell me about her?”

“Well. do you want your dick bitten off?”

“…excuse me?”

“Your dick. Do you want it bitten off, chewed up and spat in your face?”

“Sir, i dont have a dick. Can’t you hear the femininity in my voice?”

“Well. Let me tell you then, ma’am, This Karen bitch got really mad at me for telling her to shave some sec’s off of the main production line, so she ripped my zuit suit pants down, bit my dick off, chewed it up in her mouth and spat it at me. so if you want someone that does THAT, i say hire her”

“O…kay…Thank you sir”

*click*

“Told you he was insane”

“I should have believed you. start monday?”

–end scene–

Just insane if you ask me.  But it does get me onto the next issue, which means NEW CHAPTER!!!!!

I know it won’t be easy, but it might be fun, inspiring, awesome and wonderful. Therefore I’m promising to make use of The DailyPost, and the community of other bloggers with similiar goals, to help me along the way, including asking for help when I need it and encouraging others when I can.

If you already read my blog, I hope you’ll encourage me with comments and likes, and good will along the way.

Signed,

Rob

Where the fuck to start on this movie. Well, I suppose I could start by reviewing The Day After Tomorrow being as it’s the SAME FUCKING MOVIE, except without the mediocre acting (substituting in shit for mediocre) and less of a moral message.

So. I was bored today and decided to go to a movie! yay! Who doesn’t like movies?…You don’t? Well, fuck you.

I chose one that I wanted to see since I saw the first trailer. An epic shot. A monk atop a mountain being wiped the fuck out by a tidal wave. Awesome. Simply awesome.

Flash forward about a year from when I see the trailer to when I actually watch the movie (that puts it at today for those keeping record). I think Roland Emerich should stop making movies. Don’t get me wrong. I think he makes fascinating movies. The Day after tomorrow, Independence day and Stargate. Fantastic movies. They are enjoyable, have a semblance of plot and they are visually stunning. He also makes some *ehem* not so great movies, such as GODZIRRA and 10,000 BC. Still moderately enjoyable on some levels, visually stunning, but the plot is just fucked on them. Okay, I can deal with that too. I liked Godzirra. Matthew Broderick and Jean Reno made a good fuckin team.

AND THEN HE MAKES THIS FUCKING MOVIE.

It’s so retarded a retarded person would say ‘Holy shit, that’s retarded.’

Let’s take it point by point.

The characters:

So, being a Roland Emmerich movie, there are four thousand characters in it. That’s obvious. We focus on seventy of them though, so lets take each of them.

John Cusack- So he’s a shitty father, a shitty writer. Whatever. I believed this character as much as I believed that Leia wanted to fuck Chewie.

FUCK. This is insane. I really want to rip this character apart, but I am finding it hard to locate a distinct character here. I literally have written a bunch of witty shit about him before I realize it ends nowhere because there’s no character.

And really, the same goes for the rest of the characters. Amanda Peet was hot. The token pissed-at-his-dad child served his role by pretending to be pissed at his dad. The little girl that reminded me of Abigail Breslin was okay. Danny Glover and Oliver Platt apparently forgot how to act at some time…Perhaps their too old for this shit. (get it?)

The only redeeming person in this movie was the black guy. Chiwetel Ejiofor. That is the only time I shall say his name because…well, fuckin look at it. I had to Copy and paste that shit. So from now on I shall call him Duckie.

Duckie was actually a very great character to me. He had heart, compassion, he was black and the relationship, or sexual tension I should say, between him and Thandie Newton was, dare I say, believable.

Fuck the characters.

Plot.

The plot, and in particular, the reality, in this movie was much like a garbage bag. If you can’t quite fit it into the story (garbage can top) you just have to pull, stretch, rip and essentially destroy it to make it fit. Leaving gaping plot holes, theories that make NO fuckin sense, and impossibilities that even Michael Bay would question.

Basically, the entire movie bases its ‘world is gonna end’ notion on…can you guess it? Sun flares. Yes. Sun flares are emitting neutrinos that are melting the inside of the earth (which I don’t think Roland knows is already 98 percent melted.) The neutrinos then, in their asshole nature, start making the crust sink into the water or something. Then the step dad dude flies a plane he is nowhere near qualified for, the Russians are assholes (big shocker) and a dog is saved. Whoopee shit. I still can’t really comprehend what the fuck went on in the movie.  All I know is somehow we got a FUCKTON of water from seemingly nowhere and it almost drowned Mt. Everest (or as I like to call it, the measuring stick for James Cameron’s Ego)

It makes no sense. Where, if the ground is boiling fuckin water, does this come from? Mt. Everest is 29000 feet above sea level. In order to get a uniform amount of water around all sides of it like in the movie, the water level would have to rise upward of 25000 feet above what it is right now.

Fact for you. This whole global warming thing people are talking about? The one that they are afraid it will melt the polar ice caps? Yeah. That would raise the water about, ohh..300 feet or so. That is if all of the ice on Greenland, Antarctica, the north pole, Canada and pretty much every mountaintop melted.  300 feet. That means that, in order for that water to get that high, the earth would have to import about 84 times the amount of water frozen on earth somehow.

I know some people would say ‘Nooo, it was because of the tidal wave that it got that high.’ You know what I say to that? “Fuck you Roland Emmerich.”  That water, while initially brought up by a tidal wave, stayed that high until the end of the movie where it all of a sudden recedes back to space or something. Wherever they got it.

It is much the same as The Day After Tomorrow when the wall of water comes crashing into new York city. They justify it by saying that the entire ocean raised 15 feet. Making it logical(ish) that a massive wall of water would come. But here, we have to raise 25000 fuckin feet. NO GODDAMN WAY. IMPOSSIBLE. The only way there could be enough water to do that was if God…wait…massive flood…arc…John Cusack…It’s like fuckin NOAH! I know where Roland got his idea. I believe the conversation went like this:

“hmmm…I’ve done space, aliens, saber tooth tigers, freezing cold…What could I do next?”

To which old producer and fellow insane asylum inmate suggests “What if we did a new Noah’s Arc? And like, connected it with the Mayans or something.”

“How would we connect it?”

“The sun”

“I don’t follow, but I like it! The sun could be like…m..melting the earth…”

“Yeah! And we could have entire continents sink into the water!”

“YEAH!!” *High Five*

“WHOOP!!” *high fives back*

Then the nurse would come in and make them take their med’s or something. But I’m digressing. What am I talking about? Batman?

So Bruce Wayne is all ‘You can’t handle the tru—What? Maya? Like the singer? Ooooohhh. The Mayans in 2012.  I gotcha.

What else. What else, what else. How about:

Visual stuff.

Even if you aren’t a fan of Roland Emmerich, you can’t deny that he makes some pretty amazing looking movies. Alien space ships the size of cities coming through the atmosphere in a stunning display of fire and clouds. Massive hurricane’s of snow blanketing entire continents in fifty feet of snow.  This movie, while having all of those, just doesn’t hit it.

They have the major stuff like destroying nationally beloved monuments with other nationally beloved ships named after nationally beloved presidents. They have the massive walls of CGI water destroying, umm…mountains. They have cities somehow falling off of the face of the earth into the throat of the earth and being replaced by magically appearing water. But it all looks like shit. You would think, with a budget of 200 MILLION dollars, that they would be able to have Vatican city falling on Catholics at least LOOK like it wasn’t all shot with actors on a green screen. You would think they would add some depth to the images.

But nay. Instead they opt to shoot actors in front of a green screen and add in a no-depth image behind them. It’s shitty. It’s one of the many effects shots in the flick that just…fail.

But I must say, overall this movie made me want to kill myself. In many different ways. It made me want to kill most of the characters *ehem* sorry, “Characters” on screen in horrible ways and made me want to go watch a good movie. Such as anything besides this.

Watchmen. Everyone reading this i assume has already seen it because, lets face it, I’m slow at seeing blockbusters like this.

So Watchmen came out in March of this year and I’ve been hearing shit about it since last years Comicon. people raving on how brilliant it was, how Zach Snyder filmed a previously thought to be un-filmable graphic novel. People couldn’t get enough of watchmen and when i first saw the trailer before, i believe it was The Dark Knight? i was blown away by how it looked. So flash forward about a year and a half to the time i actually watched it…Well, watched it all the way through, i fell asleep on the first viewing.

So in watching it and I’m just thinking, Meh, its okay so far i suppose. I don’t really care about any of the characters and (i know I’m REALLY alone on this next one) there was this one single shot in the first fight with the comedian that just irritated the fuck out of me almost the whole movie. It was the shot where he punches the wall and it cuts to the other side of the wall with his fist coming through in slow motion. It’s a tacky shot and made me feel like i was in a shitty Spielberg movie. (he’s a good director, but come on. Watch Jurassic Park’s Opening scene with the raptor cage thing. “SHOOOT HEEERRRRR” THAT type of shot. just fuckin tacky and odd.)

But i digress. The story was pretty good, I’m not gonna say it was groundbreaking and phenomenal, but it was pretty entertaining. Brilliantly directed (except for that ONE fucking shot) and for the most part the actors were damn good, though to be honest, the first scene where we meet the night owl and its like, the old and current owl having a conversation; the old dude totally sucked. that was bad enough acting to rip me out of the scene and just say ‘that’s just silly.” but apart from that fist shot and the owl scene, acting was top notch.
Acting aside, it still wasn’t good enough to make me give a flying fuck about any of the characters. the only one i felt slight remorse (perhaps the wrong word, but due to lack of a better term it has to stick) for is Rorschach. That is actually a very well written and beautifully delivered character. top notch on that. Apart from him though? every other character was just meh. (though i did like the inclusion of the chick from Son-In-Law as the original spectra lady. that was pretty tight. She had horrid looking ‘old person’ makeup, but whatever. it was cool to see her.)
as i said, the plot line took a goddamn dogs age to get moving. In this aspect it IS like the graphic novel i must admit. i have yet to get past the first Rorschach’s journal so i can only compare the first ten-fifteen pages to the flick, but as for entertaining purposes both intro’s are the same. and that is to say FUCKING BORING. I honestly couldn’t tell you when i started giving a shit about the plot and what happened to turn me into giving a shit. frankly i don’t know if i even DO care. perhaps i am alone on this (and i assume i am because of the FUCKLOAD of publicity and support this movie still has) but even by the end the only thing i truly loved about the movie was the soundtrack. and that’s just cuz it had some kickass tunes linked to some mediocre action sequences that the songs wouldn’t normally be paired with.

I’m dunno. I have to watch it again before i make any true judgments about the movie as a whole. perhaps watch it with some film friends when the semester starts and maybe that’ll sway my mind at which point i would have to come and completely re-write this entire thing. but until that point i have to give the flick about a 6-7 out of ten on the “HOLYFUCKTHATWASAMAZING” rating system (which is still dominated by The Shawshank Redemption.) So now what YOU have to do in the comments down there is tell me how much of a faggot i am for not enjoying this movie to its deserved effect. be creative in how call me said faggot as well.

Okay, so i watched Speed (on bluray) and had some umm…concerns. I’ll start off right away by saying its a fun fucking movie with some really awesome acting (mostly i reference Sandra Bullocks character because she was a-fucking-mazing in that flick)

Okay, here’s my concerns: Dennis Hopper wants what? 3? 4 million dollars? let’s say 4 on the high end. So four million dollars and everything is gravy. all the passengers are safe and sexy sandra bullock doesnt have to fall in love with the tin man Keanu Reeves. Sounds like a fair deal to me. But is that what our wooden hero does? Nope. Instead, he opts to ride it out and give a big “Fuck you” to dennis hopper, which eventually ends up killing dennis Hopper and the movie ends in a horny exchange between Keanu and Sandra. On the surface, that sounds awesome. A great way to end a movie, and i agree.

…but then you delve a little deeper into your thoughts and move out of the typical “HOLYCHRISTTHATWASANAWESOM